“The land of France is wide and fair, the people brave and free, I fain would tell, but orders came, ‘Push on, the foe awaits the game’— The game of death; the Khalsa cry, The warriors’ slogan, rent the sky, Fateh Wah Guru Ji![4] VIII “The Sahibs’ faces told their tale; no craven thought or sloth In those brave hearts, as we had learned When Gujerat the tide had turned, And left the names of Aliwal And Chillianwala as a pall Of glory to us both. IX “And thus the sons of Hindustan, from Himalaya to Scinde, From Hindu Kush to Deccan plains, Rent in a day the ancient chains Which isolated class from clan, And joined in battle as one man, To die for Mata Hind.[5]. X “Hur Mahadeo! Guru Ji! and Allah’s sacred name, Shri Gunga Jai![6] from brave Nepal, Re-echoed loud through wild Garhwal; From Dogra vale, Afridi clan, To the proud homes of Rajistan, Was lit the martial flame. XI “As pitiless the bullets rained, ’mid angry storm and flood, Khudadad Khan! immortal name, Stood by his gun, for India’s fame Was in his hands; the Huns advance, Recoil; Retire; the soil of France Is richer with his blood.” XII And Hurnām paused as he recalled, one dark November morn, When twice three thousand foes had rushed Our trenches, powdered into dust, And bayonet point and Kukry blade Avenging retribution made, Before the break of dawn. XIII “Garhwal will tell,” he said, “with pride her children oft recite, How Durwan Negi, lion-heart! Was first and foremost from the start; He led the charge which won the day,— Oh, brothers, ’twas a glorious fray, For victory came with light.” XIV Shābāsh! Shābāsh! from every tongue, and mothers’ hearts stood still, As sons stepped forth and made demand They too should join the glorious band, They too should hear the battle’s din, Or purge the soul of every sin, If such were Ishwar’s[7] will. XV